I set out this morning, not to try to find that dahlia again, but because there were parts of Central Park I had yet to discover. It was Yom Kippur, and I wanted to spend time in my “temple.”
I took my camera and went to find a waterfall in the middle of the park. I walked up steps and down hills (who knew NYC was so hilly?), and I found the waterfall. It did not disappoint. I mean, it wasn’t the waterfalls of North Georgia, but it was a waterfall in the middle of the city.
Then I kept walking, and I thought, oh, there’s a butterfly garden somewhere too. I plugged it into my GPS, turned around, and there it was, a cardinal. The red cardinal always shows up at momentous moments in my life. They represent my parents. This one was right in front of me, my mama wishing me a Shanah Tovah. I sat for a moment and prayed with my parents for a sweet and wonderful year to come.
And then I set out to see butterflies. The butterflies did not show. But I kept walking, and in the back of my mind I was still on the lookout for that beautiful dahlia I saw the other day. Then I thought to look at the GPS on the photo. I found the map, and the gps brought me to the Burnett Fountain. The is a sweet little pond and the Burnett fountain, that I have been to before, because that is where the lotuses grow. When I arrived, they were there and closed, just like the day before.
While I was standing there the sun came out. The lotuses moved a bit. I wasn’t 100% percent sure I saw them move, so I sat on the side of the fountain and watched. Then I noticed slight movement of the petals, and my excitement grew, because I know lotuses bloom in the sun. So I stayed. I watched longer, and I saw the most amazing thing. The lotuses started to bloom. And I was there to witness the miracle of the lotus bloom. In all my years of following lotuses, it was something I had never seen.
The lotus has been in my life for nearly twenty years. From being in the mud, to the rising, to the blooming. A cycle that has happened to me more times than I would like to count. So I sat, and I watched and watched until the lotuses were almost fully open. It was magic.
Then I left... and still no dahlia. But a red cardinal and lotuses blooming is a day I won’t soon forget.
